


Transformation

by Aileuromania



Category: Star Wars: The Old Republic
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-02-05 15:53:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1823974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aileuromania/pseuds/Aileuromania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vector Hyllus was a diplomat working on Alderaan when he was asked to become the emissary to the Killiks. He hadn't expected to Join them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Transformation

Nobody had warned him that he would be in a cage. His slender fingers fitted through the bars, the sharp metal of the enclosure biting into the soft skin as he forced himself to breathe. This was the right thing he was doing. He was doing what the Empire required of him, and what he was giving up was for the greater good. He had to believe it, or else he would give in to terror.

_"We need an emissary, Hyllus. The Killiks are an unknown, and we need to know what kind of a threat they pose. You have no attachments, no family of your own, no wife, and you are uniquely qualified to assess their suitability for allying to the Empire. After all, you actually like first contact, don’t you?"_

He’d laughed along with the Ambassador, but the jibe still weighed heavily in his heart. The wounds from Anora were still too fresh, and he knew his attitude towards the alien races the Diplomatic Service dealt with was unique at best, abhorred at worst. He wasn’t a full Imperial - there was still too much of the old Jurio in him to be as easily dismissive of these supposedly “lesser” races - and the difference was often quite markedly underscored.

Was it getting warmer in here? He paced the dirt floor of his cell; three steps one way, three steps the other, pulling at his collar as he felt the heat in his skin.

_"It’s necessary. Sometimes through the Joining people can become disoriented, or otherwise hurt themselves as they flail about. So the Killiks keep them contained until the pheromones have fully bonded to their systems. It’s for your safety as much as theirs."_

Yet it was a cage, and he couldn’t help but wonder how much of a line he’d just been fed. Goodness knows they don’t want their new “Emissary” to turn tail and run.

The speed with which he’d been left to his fate made his hands grow cold. No one else wanted to risk becoming Joined and so he’d been left alone, his only company the odd clicking and whirring noises of the chitinous creatures he was soon to become a part of.

_Will it hurt?_ he wondered, repressing that thrill of fear that made him want to scream. _What’s it like, to lose yourself completely? Will I still remember who I am? Will I be screaming somewhere in my own mind?_

Pacing was the only recourse left to him. The diplomat in the cage - what a terrifying creature. He would have laughed had he not felt like vomitting. And he was an oddity, the insect-like Killiks often gathering outside his cell in order to watch him with those unsettling, fascinatingly faceted eyes. _Empiricus Diplomatus - Hyllus genus._ He felt like he was in a zoo. If he ever got out of here and regained himself, he would never look on the menageries about the Empire with quite the same appreciation again.

_"Shhhh."_ Did he really hear that? The sussuration of a hundred voices seemed to echo through the chamber, but he saw nothing so human. Just Killiks, and none of them made such noises.

His hands were shaking. With a certain dread he raised them up to eye level, watching the tremours as though it was something new and dreadful. His training wouldn’t still them; was this nerves, or was this the Joining beginning to take effect?

_"Soon._ " A hundred voices, or a thousand - he couldn’t tell as his knees sank from under him. The dirt was hard packed but he hardly felt the pain as his hip struck the floor. _"Welcome. You are welcome, new child."_

"My name is Vector Hyllus." he whispered as the tremours overtook him, falling back to the floor as the world reeled.

_"Not to us. Not for long."_ A sense of overwhelming love enveloped him, where he could do no wrong, where he was accepted without reservation or restriction. _"Not long now, and you will be us."_

"I… am Vector."

And the universe began to sing.


End file.
